I'm Just Across the River
by MaverickLover2
Summary: Even when all he's doing is playing poker and waiting for his brother to arrive in town, Bret manages to get caught up in robbery and murder. Will he help solve the mysterious goings-on before Bart gets to Willow Springs? A Maverick One-Shot story.


I'm Just Across the River

He was not fond of jail cells. Even knowing that, the universe seemed to want to put him in one far more often than he thought necessary. As if trying to prove a point. Although he failed to see what purpose that point served.

"Come on, Jed, you know I didn't rob the bank for that money. You were sittin' right at the table when I won it, fair and square. So was half the town. How is this plan ever gonna work?"

"Maverick, I gotta make 'em think they got away with it, or we ain't never gonna find out who actually did the job. Now pipe down and cooperate a little, would ya?"

"I could cooperate a whole lot better if I was in my own room, in my own bed, sound asleep. Do you know how hard this cot is?"

"How about breakfast? Would that make ya feel any better? Some nice hot coffee, lots a fluffy eggs, and about a pound a Miss Betty's maple cured bacon that ya like so much? Don't that sound good?"

"It does if you're payin' for it."

"You know I am. Anything to keep you from yammerin' about gettin' outta jail. Is it a deal?"

Bret Maverick shook his head. "For now, I suppose. Long as this works before my brother gets here."

"When is that, again?"

"Tomorrow's stage."

"Well, let's hope for the best," Jed Hayward offered as he scooted out the door.

"Give me some warnin', would ya Jed?" Bret called as he pulled the cell door shut, just in case anybody wandered in while Jed was gone. This little charade would work only as long as everybody believed that Jed had arrested Maverick, rather than just talked him into going along with the scheme. As Jed had pleaded this morning, "You owe me, Maverick. You won all my money!"

"And whose fault was that? This happens every time I come through here."

'Here' just happened to be Willow Springs, a town that Bret was rather fond of for more than one reason. Miss Betty's maple cured bacon was one of those. So was one of his regular poker opponents, Jed Hayward. As well as Kitty MacIntyre, who ran the local saloon, Mac's Joint. And the fact that Willow Springs was right on the main stage route between Houston and Dallas and always had a lot of fascinating people passing through it, most of them just dying to play poker against Kitty, who was one of the best female gamblers Bret had ever run across. And a damn fine looking woman, too.

Which is why he and Bart had decided to meet up here when they found both were headed to Dallas. There they were supposed to join their Cousin Beau (already ensconced in the city for several days) and travel on to New Orleans. So, feeling sorry for the sheriff when the bank was robbed sometime after the poker game broke up, Bret had allowed himself to be talked into a scheme to smoke the robbers out into the open. Nobody left Willow Springs last night or this morning except for townsfolk and local cowhands, and it was Jed's theory that the robber or robbers were still in town, waiting to see exactly what happened next. His argument was that by arresting the gambler, the robbers would feel safe enough to tip their hand and expose themselves, making it easier to catch them.

Bret, in one of his weaker moments, agreed to the ruse. With the provision that Jed keep him fed and entertained until either Bart's arrival or the apprehension of the real suspects. Of course, it still required a bit of arm twisting, and Jed knew how to do that. Maverick owed him a favor for saving the gambler's hide the last time he came through town, and Jed pushed Bret until he agreed to let the sheriff collect. And then tried to change his mind several times until Hayward threatened to lock him up for real.

Seeing no other option, Bret lay down on the hard as dirt cot and decided to nap until Jed came back with breakfast. That, of course, is when Kitty came to visit and see if there was anything that he needed. She walked through the front door and started laughing, and Bret leaned up on one elbow. "That's not nice," he protested. "Besides, it's unlocked."

Kitty dragged the door open and sashayed into the cell. She sat down on the cot across from Bret, pulling the full skirt of her bright red dress off the floor as she plopped onto the hard bed. "Jed doesn't have the best accommodations, does he?" she chuckled. "Good thing I've never been in jail."

"Now did you just come to laugh at me, or is there something you wanted?" Bret asked, slightly annoyed.

"Wanted to see if you needed anything," Miss MacIntyre declared, but couldn't stop laughing. "You seem to fit right in here. You been in a lot of these?"

"More than I care to remember," Maverick replied. "You hear anything this mornin'?"

"About the robbery? I did hear that Jed arrested that gambler fella for the job. Nothin' else, though."

"Bring me a pillow, would ya?"

"A pillow? To sleep on?"

"No, so that I can put it over my head and drown out the laughin'."

Kitty finally got her laughing under control and looked at Bret soberly. "Seriously, what do you need?"

"I meant it. A pillow. And some cigars. You know the kind I like."

She stood up to go but leaned down to kiss him on the cheek before leaving. Bret had other ideas and pulled her down on top of him and kissed her properly. "What was that for?"

"So you'll remember why you like it when I come through town."

"Honey, I don't forget things like that," she laughed again, but this time it was more a pleasant chuckle than an outright laugh. "I gotta go, your breakfast is here," she told him as Jed came back through the front door with a loaded down tray of food.

"Hey now, did I say you could have visitors?" the sheriff asked.

"Don't pay any attention to him," Bret told Kitty. "And don't forget my cigars."

She giggled this time. "I won't. And I won't forget that other subject, either."

Bret grinned. He was sure she wasn't talking about the pillow.

Kitty left the cell door open and Jed brought in the tray. "Is that enough bacon?" he asked as Bret ate the first piece.

"Mmmm. For now. Thanks, Jed. Did you remember Miss Betty's homemade honey?"

The sheriff smiled, pleased that Bret had focused his attention on breakfast and away from the makeshift plan. "Of course I did, right along with the half dozen a her biscuits, too."

"Put a decent cot in this place and I might forgive you," Bret offered his opinion while he ate. "Mmmm, hmmm, how does she do it with that bacon? Brother Bart, wherever you are right now you're missin' a taste of heaven."

"Where's he comin' from?"

"Delmont."

"Down by the Gulf, huh?"

Bret stopped chewing and looked up. "Yep, all the way down south. Bart loves those obscure little towns. Says they're full a people just dyin' to be parted from their cash."

"Why are y'all goin' to Dallas and New Orleans then? Sure ain't nothin' little about either one a those places."

"Remember, I told you about Beau's wife? This is the first extended travelin' he's done in a long time, and we just thought it might be a good idea to go with him. Just a family thing, more or less. It sure ain't been easy for him."

"Didn't your brother – "

"Yep. Worse, in a lotta ways. His woman was killed right in front of him. Shot dead."

"Couldn't a been easy for him, either."

"I'm sure it wasn't. Maybe someday I'll hear the whole story."

"What about you? A wife in your future?"

"Me? Hell, no. I like my life just the way it is. Too many Kitty MacIntyre's in the world."

"Speakin' of which, she hear anything this mornin'?"

"She says no."

"Don't you believe her?"

"Course I believe her." The words said yes; the tone was a little doubtful. "Can't even investigate, sittin' in this jail cell, Jed."

Good thing Jed had closed the cell door, because Horace Walker came strolling in. "Mornin' Jed, Bret," Horace nodded. He was another of Bret's regular group of poker players. Horace owned the livery and two or three other small businesses in Willow Springs. "Jed, Marv Feeney came in from the Double Bar R this mornin'. Says that Ed and Frank from out there came into town last night to play poker with Maverick here an they never came back. When'd that poker game break up?"

"About two in the mornin'. But I never saw Ed or Frank, did you?" Jed asked Bret.

The gambler shook his head. "Nope. Neither one of 'em."

Horace looked at the sheriff and chuckled. "Jed, why don't you let that poor boy out? Ain't nobody believes that you actually arrested him for the robbery."

Bret stood up and put his coat and hat on, then walked out of the cell. "Thank you, Horace. I tried tellin' him that but he didn't wanna listen to me."

"Dang it, Bret, you ain't helpin' any. It woulda worked, Horace, but nobody gave it a chance." The sheriff wasn't particularly happy, but he did concede that Walker had a point. "Alright, let's go give the bank another look."

The three men left the sheriff's office and walked down the street to the Willow Springs Savings and Loan building. "Did you check around back, Jed?" Maverick asked.

"Did I . . . well, I was going to when I got called back inside. Forgot to get back out there." They made their way around back and found things they weren't expecting – an empty money bag from the bank and something else. "What the . . . " Jed started, then stopped. On the ground in front of him were two bodies . . . what remained of Ed and Frank. Both shot at close range.

"Marv is gonna be one unhappy man," Bret remarked. "He thoughta those boys as kin."

"Can ya help me get 'em over to Doc Wilby's office?" Jed asked Bret gloomily. "I'd appreciate it."

"Sure," Bret answered, "long as you don't wanna put me back in jail."

"I'm done with that. And I'm sorry for doin' it. I thought sure it'd work."

Almost an hour later Bret was back in his room at the hotel. It hadn't been a pleasant task; Ed and Frank were good ranch hands and always real fun to play poker against. He'd no more than taken off his coat, hat, vest, and tie when there was a knock on the door. "Now what?" he asked as he pulled open the door, expecting to find the sheriff. Instead Kitty strolled into his room, handing him a fistful of cigars as she walked past him. She'd changed from the red nighttime dress into something blue and frilly, and she settled herself on his bed. "That's just where I was headed," he told her.

"Well come sit down right here," and she patted the bed next to her.

Bret shook his head. "Can't, Kitty. I'm exhausted." He sat down next to her, but that was as close as he was going to get.

"Bret Maverick. I'm practically throwing myself at you and you're exhausted?"

He turned his head to look at her and saw the smile that played around the corners of her mouth. "Let me rephrase that . . . " he started, as he leaned over to kiss her.

He woke up around four o'clock. Kitty was gone; his clothes were hung neatly on a chair. He rolled over and watched the late afternoon sun make shadows on the walls of the room. Reluctantly he got up out of bed and stretched, then got washed up and put on clean clothes. In just a few minutes he was out the door and on his way to the dining room. Breakfast had been a long time ago.

He was almost finished eating when a shadow darkened the door to the dining room that made Bret sigh. It was Marv Feeney. Bret waved him over and Marv came into the room looking like he'd just been beaten. "Sit down, Marv. You want some coffee?"

Feeney nodded and Bret signaled the waitress over. She poured coffee for them both and when Marv shook his head she went back to the kitchen.

"Bret."

Maverick nodded his head. "I know, Marv. Ed an Frank were good men. I'm sorry they're gone. Looks like they just got caught at the right place at the wrong time."

"You gonna help Jed find who killed 'em? I'd sure appreciate if ya would."

"I'll do what I can, Marv. Anything you can tell me might help?"

"No, nothin' goin' on outta the ordinary. Oh, wait. Ed's brother was supposed to be in on yesterday's stage. He never got here. That's why Frank talked Ed into comin' to town to play poker. Tryin' to get his mind offa everything."

"Didn't know Ed had a brother."

Marv nodded. "Yep, got into some trouble, served a prison sentence. Comin' out to start a new life, Ed told me. Now what's he gotta face?"

Bret finished his coffee while he thought it over. "You tell Jed about the brother?"

"Nope. Forgot all about it till just now."

"Come on," the gambler pushed his plate away and left money for his food. "Let's go see the sheriff."

Jed was working on his reports when Bret and Marv walked into the office. "I see ya found him."

Marv nodded. "Yep, right where you said he'd be. I forgot to tell you earlier – Ed's brother Spence was supposed to be on yesterday's stage. He didn't get here."

Hayward's gaze shifted from Marv to the gambler. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"Probably. You got a description, Marv?"

"Nope. Didn't need one. Ed came into town to get him."

Bret sat down in an empty chair. "Anybody come in on yesterday's stage?"

The sheriff scratched his head. "Yeah, some salesman, carryin' a couple suitcases. Said he had samples in 'em. Along with the mail an the payroll for the railroad men."

"You didn't tell me the railroad payroll came in yesterday," Maverick complained.

"Why would I? Didn't make no difference to you."

"THAT'S a reason to rob the bank, Jed! Who was drivin' the stage? Ernie?"

Hayward got up and poured a cup of coffee. "Anybody want any? No? No, Bret, Ernie wasn't on that run. New fella, named Moses. Said Ernie broke his leg, wouldn't be around for a while."

The gambler scratched his chin. "Stage come in yet today?"

"No, an it's late."

"Let's go see your salesman at the hotel. What was he sellin' anyway?"

"Ya know, Maverick, I didn't ask him. Guess I should have, huh?" Jed finished the coffee and left the empty cup on his desk. He and Bret went to the hotel and Jed asked about yesterday's arrivals.

"Yeah, he checked in alright," Eugene drawled. "Ain't seen 'em since. Room 216."

"Mr. Maverick, after you," Jed pointed to the staircase.

"Oh, no, sheriff, I insist," Bret drawled back and Jed, shaking his head, took the lead up the steps. When they got to 216 the lawman knocked on the door. "Mr. Varney? Can ya open up? It's Sheriff Hayward." They waited patiently but there was no sound. Jed pounded on the door this time. "Varney, open up! It's the sheriff!" Still no answer.

The gambler and the law decided to wait no longer, and Bret kicked the door in, which didn't take much of an effort. The room was empty, no surprise to either of the men that had just entered it. There was no indication that the bed had been slept in. "Damn," Jed muttered under his breath.

"I do believe you have one of your bank robbers," Bret remarked.

"I wish I had 'em," the sheriff answered back. They spent a few minutes searching the room but found nothing of significance. Leaving a few minutes later, they reached the bottom of the stairs just as the stage pulled up. Both men were surprised to see Ernie driving. "Hey, Ernie, I thought your leg was broke!" Jed called out to the driver.

"Musta heard that from the dad-burned fool that stole my stage yesterday," Ernie called back down from the top of the coach.

"Stole the stage?" Bret questioned.

"Yep, that's what he did. Flagged me down about ten miles past the way station, said he needed a ride, then pulled a gun an made me get off. Just took my stage an drove on towards town. Had to walk back to the station."

"The other bank robber," Jed muttered. "But why? Why not just ride into town? Why the elaborate plan?"

"I wondered that, too," Bret remarked. "But somebody mighta paid attention to 'em, or what they looked like, if they'da done that. This way nobody paid 'em no mind." He turned to face Jed. "You remember what either one of the two of 'em looked like?"

"Well . . . . . . "

"If they'd ridden into town alone you'da known what they looked like. You got a description, Ernie?"

The stagecoach driver climbed down from his seat. "Not mucha one. Bout my height, younger, brown hair. Looked like a regular fella. What'd he do?"

"You get much of a chance to look at your passenger before you got dumped off?"

Ernie shook his head. "Nope. Looked like a salesman, that's about all I could tell ya. Bank got held up, huh?"

"That's not all. Whoever it was done it killed Ed and Frank from the Double Bar R and stole their horses to escape. Now Jed's got no description an no clues, cause he tried to pin it on me to smoke 'em out."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Jed explained.

"Well, boys, much fun as it is standin' around here chewin' the fat with Y'all, I got a coach to drive. Your brother still comin' in tomorrow, Bret?"

"Far as I know, Ernie. I'll see ya then."

"Yep. So long, fellas." Ernie climbed back on the coach and slapped the horses into a gallup.

"Now what, Jed?" Bret asked.

"I think we gotta find out what Spence looks like, don't you?"

Bret chuckled. "I think you need to go find out what Spence looks like. I got a poker game with Kitty."

And indeed he did. They'd been playing for about three hours and had attracted a rather large crowd watching the ongoing game when Jed came through the batwing doors of Mac's Joint. Bret groaned; Jed had that 'I need to see you' look on his face, and he didn't have a wad of poker money in his hand. Kitty saw him, too, and grinned at Bret. He'd been beating her all night, and she knew Jed was going to pull him away from the game. "Looks like your time's up for now, gamblin' man," she leaned across the table and whispered to him.

"Keep my seat warm," was his reply, and he got up to meet Jed halfway across the saloon. "Did I ever tell you I play poker for a livin'?" he asked the sheriff.

"Yeah, yeah, you can go back to that when we're done," was Jed's response. "A note got delivered to the Double Bar R today, addressed to Ed Franklin." He pulled the piece of paper out of his vest pocket. It said _'I'm just across the river in Fentonville. Come see me when your headache's gone. Spence.'_ "Now what's that sound like to you?"

"Sounds like Spence was one of our two robbers – and he don't know what his partner did to Ed and Frank."

Jed nodded. "Sounds like that to me, too. Will ya go with me?"

"There's still a problem, sheriff. You don't know who yer lookin' for," Bret reminded him.

"Now, Bret. I ain't as dumb as I look. I found this in my old, old stack of wanted posters." He handed the gambler an out-of-date, folded up wanted poster. A face that looked remarkably like the late Ed Franklin stared out at him. A little younger, a little thinner, a little blonder, it was definitely a Franklin face. _'Wanted for Bank Robbery'_ the crawl under the picture read.

"Huh," was the extent of Bret's remarks, soon followed by, "You got a horse I can use?"

Ten minutes later Bret and Jed, with three others Jed had gathered as a posse, were riding across the river to Fentonville. The river was cold and wet, and riding through it before they crossed was not Bret's idea of a good time. There were two hotels in town, and nobody that looked like Spence had checked into the first one. They hit pay dirt when they got to the second one – two men, one matching Spence Franklin's description, checked in three days ago.

Two members of the posse remained downstairs, one inside and one outside of the front door. Bret and the other posse member followed Jed upstairs, Bret softly knocking on the door to room 218. "Ed?" a voice from inside the room called out, and Bret mumbled "Yeah."

"What took you – " was as far as the man that opened the door got before being confronted by Jed Hayward's Colt.

"Sorry, Spence, Ed's not comin'. Put your hands up and back up into the room." Spence did as he was told and the three men in the hall followed him in. The room was otherwise empty. "Where's your partner?"

"Vern went to get a bottle," Franklin answered. "My own brother turned me in, huh?"

"Your brother's dead," Bret informed the man that had posed as a salesman when he rode the stage into Willow Springs.

"How?" he asked.

"Your partner killed him and one of his friends when he stole the getaway horses. Didn't know that, huh?" Jed didn't need a verbal answer; the expression on the man's face said it all. "I'd guess that wasn't the plan."

"No, it wasn't," the brother answered. There was suddenly a lot of shouting, followed by gunfire, downstairs. The man that had posed as Moses, the substitute stage driver, came running down the hall, his left arm bleeding, and found himself facing three more unexpected visitors.

Spence growled "You son-of-a-bitch," and grabbed for Jed's gun, shooting Vern in the gut. Bret fired and caught Spence in the right shoulder. The gun dropped and the bank robber fell to his knees on the floor, next to the body of his now-deceased partner. "He was only supposed to knock 'em out," he babbled, as Bret picked up Jed's pistol and handed it back to him.

"Where's the money?" the sheriff demanded.

"In the saddlebags, under the bed," came the answer.

"C'mon, Spence, we're goin' back to Willow Springs."

Three hours later Bret rolled over in bed and gathered Kitty MacIntyre into his arms. The poker game was done by the time everybody got back, but Kitty had gotten the desk clerk to let her in the room and Bret found her waiting there for him. She still had her dress on from that evening and Bret played with the buttons in the back while he kissed her. "Sorry you missed the rest of the poker game," she whispered in his ear as he moved to nibble on hers.

"I'm not," he told her. "You're way softer than a deck a cards."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she murmured as he got the last button on the dress undone.

"Nope," he told her, "just you."

It was early afternoon the next day when the stage pulled into Willow Springs. Bret was there to greet it and waited patiently for the other passengers to disembark before he saw his brother. Instead of the usual handshake, Bret gathered his 'little' brother, who was only an inch or two shorter than him, into a massive bear hug. "Most enthusiastic greetin' I've had for quite a while," Bart remarked, and Bret just grinned.

"Glad to see ya, little brother."

From behind Bret came another voice, a decidedly more feminine one. "Mister Maverick."

Bart stepped out of Bret's embrace and into Miss Kitty's, as she planted a big kiss on him. "Nice to see you too, Miss Macintyre," Bart greeted her when they broke apart.

"Hey, wait a minute," Bret protested.

Kitty turned a dazzling smile on Bret. "You think I know one Maverick brother and not the other one?" she laughed.

"Sounds reasonable to me," Maverick the younger smiled. "You got a game for us tonight?"

"You two stayin' over tonight?" she asked.

"To play poker with you? We sure are."

Bret nodded. "Catchin' the mornin' stage to Dallas."

Bart grabbed his suitcase from the stage and Kitty hooked her arms through the Maverick's, one brother on either side of her. "I wanna hear all about your latest adventure," she told Bart.

"I'm not sure you'll believe it," Bart replied.

"It doesn't involve a river, does it?" Bret asked.

"Nope. A lake and a gulf, but no river."

"Good," Bret pronounced. "I've had my fill of those for a while."

1


End file.
